


Happiness is a warm puppy

by Spylace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Unrepentant crack, in which a bite goes wrong, puppies make everything better, stiles as a puppy, terribly wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-08 08:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1130608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spylace/pseuds/Spylace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Stiles Stilinski saved the day all without the use of prehensile thumbs </p>
            </blockquote>





	Happiness is a warm puppy

**Author's Note:**

> Repost!
> 
> A fill for a [prompt](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/2069.html?thread=1428757#t1428757) on [](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/)**teenwolfkink** : Peter bites Stiles anyway.  
> 

In hindsight, Peter Hale regretted many things.  
   
He regretted that he couldn’t save his stamp collection in the fire, he regretted that he wouldn’t get that one last sponge bath on Saturday. He regretted killing his niece and beating up his nephew but most of all, he regretted thinking that it was ever a good idea to go around biting teenagers.  
   
Because while some (Scott) turned out to be a pile of hormonal lust that he had to block out on regular basis, there was Stiles Stilinski who seemed determined to singlehandedly rewrite the entire supernatural mythos as he saw fit.  
   
Often, while pretending to be catatonic to his ungrateful nephew who hadn’t visited him _once_ after leaving him to rot in this hellhole, Peter wondered what might have happened had he picked one boy over the other. Stiles was discreet—an admirable trait in a fledging beta—loyal, intelligent, and resourceful. He was also in a losing battle against his shirt.  
   
“Well fu _—dge_ ” Peter summed up eloquently, nudging the once-upon-a-boy with his foot. Flailing, Stiles escaped through the extensive cave system of arm holes and leg holes, eventually emerging somewhere around the middle after popping loose a few buttons. He wagged his tail then stopped, attacking it like it had betrayed him personally. The alpha barely managed to suppress a smile as he crouched down and flicked the little pup on the nose.  
   
Stiles jumped back and cowered against the tires, pawing frantically at the safety of his clothes. Immediately, Peter felt bad but time was ticking and he turned around to leave when he felt something collide with his heels. He looked down unimpressed as the wolf pup stared back at him with an innocent expression. “Don’t do that.” He said sternly, lifting his foot and moving away. “That doesn’t work on me anymore.”  
   
Disagreeing, Stiles gnawed at his shoelaces and slobbered.  
   
“Really, I’ve been planning this a long time.” Peter explained, trying to get the pup to understand that no, he was not abandoning him in a parking lot where he could be run over at any moment; he was just leaving him for a little while to gank a bitch and hopefully the rest of her litter. But Stiles continued to stare at him with his enormous brown eyes, suggesting that it was Peter who was being unreasonable—what’s a few (or a lot of) dead packmates between archenemies?  
   
He said earnestly, “I swear to god, I am never having kids.”  
 

-

   
At Derek’s pained howl, a wolf pup tumbled out of the decrepit house, running head over heels as he landed dazed at the bottom of the stairs. Scott managed a strangled “Stiles?!” as crazy Aunt Kate pointed her shiny crossbow between the puppy’s eyes. The said puppy immediately began to cry and Scott felt a ridiculous urge to get down on his knees and grovel for all the times he let his best friend down during _Call of Duty_ tag team matches. Even Allison’s father looked uncomfortable, least of all Kate with her niece hanging off her waist.  
   
Peter appeared with a low growl, eyes flashing red as he took in the scene in front of him. Stiles let out another despondent “aww-oo-oooh” and the alpha plucked him off the ground by his ruff, letting out an exasperated “Oh really, I don’t actually eat puppies for breakfast!” when all pointy objects spun towards him including Derek’s teeth. No one seemed particularly convinced. “Anyway, I just want her, Kate, you know, the one who massacred my entire pack?”  
   
Now it was Kate’s turn to look uncomfortable as Allison wailed, causing Stiles to cry with her.  
   
“Kate!” Chris Argent barked, stunned in a way only older brothers could be when betrayed by a much beloved younger sibling. “You said you didn’t do it!”  
   
Kate rolled her eyes at her brother’s naivety. “I lied!” She turned to Allison, tugging urgently at the girl’s wrist. “Listen sweetie, just let me shoot the puppy okay? Werewolves aren’t supposed to be able to turn into actual wolves until they’re of age anyway; it’s probably only a dog.”  
   
Allison, if anything, cried harder. “But that’s worse!”  
   
“Look, can’t we all just compromise?” Scott suggested, causing everyone to turn around and stare at him like he’d grown a second head.  
   
“About what?” Peter Hale asked incredulous, “The needless murder of my entire family?”  
   
“The fact that they’re just vermin?” Kate Argent argued, passionately resentful of being labeled the bad guy.  
   
“The fact that he’s already killed people?” Chris Argent pointed out skeptically.  
   
Allison hiccupped, staring fearfully at the alpha’s crimson eyes. “...The fact that he looks like he’s going to kill us all right now?”  
   
And of course Derek—“The fact that I was kept in the basement and tortured for days on end and you couldn’t even bother rescuing me when you found me strung up like a Christmas turkey out of common decency?”  
   
Stiles whined unhappily in Peter’s arms, hiding his face beneath his paws.  
   
Scott wilted beneath the glares, like a hapless seedling frying in the sun. “Umm... because the police are here?”  
   
As if on cue, they were blinded by floodlights as the Sheriff shouted,  
   
“Police! Hands in the air!”  
   
Peter frowned Stiles.  
 

-

   
After everyone had been hauled to prison, the underaged released into the custody of their respective parents, Sheriff Stilinski took the time to slowly grill them about the whereabouts of his missing son. The four remaining detainees were silent. They couldn’t very well tell the man that his son had been turned into a puppy; they’d avoid prison and drop straight into the loony bin.  
   
Eventually Chris Argent was released on bail looking extremely reluctant to leave his sister with two werewolves even if the said sister had defied their family code. Kate shooed him away with the typical younger sibling bravado, sneering when the two and a half werewolves glared at her with extreme prejudice.  
   
While the Sheriff was away on a well-deserved coffee break, Stiles collapsed in a furry heap at Derek’s feet, his buff-white fur colorful from all the pens that had exploded in his mouth. Tucking his feet back, Stiles rolled over onto his back begging for a tummy scratch. Growling at the others in warning, Derek dug his fingers deep into the dense belly fur and rubbed him down, the young werewolf rolling around like his fingers were the best thing since sliced bread.  
   
All but cooing as Stiles licked and sucked on his fingertips, the beta attempted to salvage his tattered street cred with an impressive scowl. Flashing his teeth when Kate snickered he ordered, “When the Sheriff gets back, both of you are going to tell him exactly what happened.”  
   
“Good Lord Derek, really? Now? Now is the time to talk about this?”  
   
“I’m in jail because of you!”  
   
Peter waved this off as an excuse. “I’m sure it was nothing personal; who knew you’d grow up into your charmingly thuggish looks?”  
   
“You killed my sister!”  
   
The alpha rolled his eyes and proceeded to throw Kate under the proverbial bus. “What about the people she killed?”  
   
“Shut it grandpa.” The hunter threatened, flipping him the bird. Peter growled, his canines popping out as his eyes turned an ominous red.  
   
“Don’t tempt me sweetheart.”  
   
Sensing potential violence near his person, Stiles howled.  
   
The two other werewolves automatically cringed, Derek literally torn between hugging the pup closer and throwing him into the other cell. Already, Peter had backed off into the farthest corner, trying to dig his way out of concrete and mortar. Even Kate looked alarmed at how long Stiles maintained the eerie sound without breathing. When he was done, Stiles hopped out from Derek’s arms and snapped at the air playfully, worrying at the man’s shoes with his milk teeth. He wagged his tail, tongue rolling out when Derek detangled him from his ankles and settled him on his lap, happy to bask in the beta’s presence.  
   
Peter darted forward, grabbing Derek by his collar and choking him against the bars. “I want you to swear, swear on your sister’s grave...”  
   
“She doesn’t have one you asshole! You cut her in half!”  
   
Peter winced at the crude words as though remembering exactly how he had acquired his alpha abilities in the first place. “Alright, simply promise never to let him near me.” Stiles looked sad, his ears drooping ever so slightly. He concluded vehemently, “ever.”  
   
Derek panted, his breathing coming out as a soft wheeze.  
   
“Afraid you’re going soft?”  
   
“No.” The older werewolf replied thoughtfully, flicking Stiles on the nose just for kicks. He had a distinct feeling that he had been played. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, being thwarted by a bunch (one) teenager. He had never liked Scooby-Doo either. “I am afraid that we’re _both_ going soft and for the sake of our dignity, let us at least preserve one of us in hopes that we can stay free...”  
   
“Wow.” Kate piped up from her end of the cell. “That was deep.”  
 

-

   
“It worked.”  
   
Derek chuckled as Stiles whined, disappointed that the older werewolf did not have extra limbs just for this occasion. Having only his ears scratched was proving to be a disappointment. There was an uncounted itch near the base of his tail and he really liked having tummy rubs though he felt ticklish whenever Derek’s clever fingers brushed over his toes. He licked the strong wrists, urging him to go faster, flailing when he was unceremoniously dropped on the newly promoted alpha’s chest.  
   
“I guess it was too much to hope for that you’d become quieter but I kind of like you like this.” Derek snorted depreciatingly, “Who knew uncle’s weakness were puppies?”  
   
Stiles squinted in mild disapproval at his tone, nudging his hand for more scratchies and finding a dearth of padding across Derek’s middle. He growled when Derek laughed, the steady rumbling jolting him out of his thoughts and his last night of sleep. His father would kill him when he returned home in the morning wearing someone else’s clothes and absolutely no explanations on where he had been the night before.  
   
The nicest scenario had his father placing him in therapy and sex ed at the village center thinking that Stiles was whoring himself out for lunch money.  
   
“Congratulations Stilinski, you’ve actually saved the day.”  
   
Stiles glowered as he shifted, the tiny wolf pup replaced by a hundred pound of naked human teenager—a deep bite mark displayed proudly across one shoulder. “Admit it, I am awesome.”  
   
Derek pulled him close, nuzzling him behind his ear.  
   
“You are, you’re _amazing_.”  



End file.
